


a religion of his own

by fuckingkinney



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Crying, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:31:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckingkinney/pseuds/fuckingkinney
Summary: It had merely been preparation, he understands now. Mary Lou had been preparing him for somethingmorethan God and Christ. For something bigger than even she could have predicted.It’s in moments like this that Credence reflects upon it most when he needs his mind to escape to something other than the act itself. He wonders what she would think; seeing him repenting to a God that was not her own. That he would part his lips and accept his salvation without a second thought.





	

There had once been a time that Credence had thought that nothing could be as exposing as being forced onto his knees in front of the cross that Mary Lou Barebone kept at the back of the church, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes as blood oozed from the cuts whipped open onto his back. He never thought there would be something as _vulnerable_ as the way she hovered over him, leather in one hand and beads in the other. A fury in her eyes as she told him to repent, as she _made_ him tell God about all the sins he had committed that day. The way that he _deserved_ to be punished for them, fingers shaking and knees bruised from the hours he had spent in the position in his life.

At some point, Credence had expected the pain to numb away into a dull ache. She made sure that ever happened.

He pressed fingertips into the claw marks that had already been carved into the floor and begged for forgiveness; eyes glassy, tears staining his face and a tremble beneath his skin that Credence could never understand.

It had merely been preparation, he understands now. Mary Lou had been preparing him for something _more_ than God and Christ. For something bigger than even she could have predicted.

It’s in moments like this that Credence reflects upon it most when he needs his mind to escape to something other than the act itself. He wonders what she would think; seeing him repenting to a God that was not her own. That he would part his lips and accept his salvation without a second thought.

She had always told him that he had the Devil within him, but she had never known how to _control_ it. She had tried to repress it, believed that she could remove it from him if only _he_ prayed hard enough.

What was a God that buried down the truest part of you? That wanted to erase you from existence, just because he had created you in the _wrong_ way? That was what Gellert told him, fingers against his chin burning. Only, he believed it.

Gellert Grindelwald was a religion of his own.

The God, surrounded by his disciples and overwhelmed in his belief that nothing could ever come into his path that will make him stop.

Credence knows that Gellert would not sacrifice himself for the cause. No, he thinks as he breathes in through the burn in his lungs, Credence knows that will be _his_ job.

One that he will take willingly, he thinks as fingers press beneath his chin, tilt his head up. Tears cloud his vision and Credence hiccups through the sobs that threaten to shake through his chest, even as Gellert shushes him. Drags a thumb across his cheekbone, perhaps a hair rougher than needed. Credence raises higher up onto his knees, desperate to press into the touch.

Gellert lets it drop instead. His shoes are polished when Credence looks down again, without a smudge on them, and Credence _aches_. He digs his fingers into his palms and relishes in the pain that it sparks through his hands, up his arms, and shudders. Gellert tuts above him, impatient for Credence to look up towards him again.

When he does, the same thumb is pressed between his lips, resting heavy on his tongue. The rest of his fingers curl under his chin, keep his head in place, and Credence makes no attempt to fight against it.

“Look at you,” the words are rough, gritted out with something Credence feels is disdain. His eyes close. Gellert’s other hand snaps across the side of his face only a moment later. “I never told you to close your eyes. I want you to _look_ at me.”

All Credence can do is nod, sniffs as the side of his face _stings_. More tears fall. Gellert doesn’t try to wipe them away this time. Pulls him up by his chin then drags him _forward_ until Credence can do nothing but tip over onto his hands and knees again. His wrists ache. His feet were numb.

His cheek presses against the floor, eyes open without looking. Credence doesn’t try to move. He doesn’t dare to.

“Move.” His voice is somewhere in the distance, impatient and waiting.

Credence crawls.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on credencecries.tumblr.com


End file.
